


Let The Sunlight Into Your Heart

by LiterallySophie



Category: The Vamps (UK Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6545206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallySophie/pseuds/LiterallySophie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor Ball - Mysterious, shy and untrusting. Constantly bullied at high-school, he keeps to himself, hiding from the world and doesn't let anyone get close. </p><p>Bradley Simpson - Seemingly always cheerful, cheeky and full of laughter, he's hiding a secret much darker than anyone whose world he has lit up with his lovable personality.</p><p>James McVey - Popular, cool, loved by everyone, yet with failing grades and a desperation to escape his life in the spotlight.</p><p>Tristan Evans - Confident, excitable, yet quiet, keeping to himself and determined to help everyone, despite needing a friend himself.</p><p>All four have secrets and problems, and discovering new found friendships on the cruise ship meant to help them, one night could change their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunlit Waters and Ink Covered Skin

-Connor’s POV - 

‘It’ll be an experience!’ Mum’s voice echoes in my mind as I stand on the very edge of the bow of the boat, my arms linked around the railings behind me, the smooth metal cool against the bare skin of my arms as I’m wearing a t-shirt. Sea spray is catapulted into my face in a somewhat comforting sensation as I tip my head back to feel the sun’s rays against my pale skin, a smile working its way across my features. 

Two days ago, my family announced that instead of allowing me the Summer break I’d been planning to spend by myself in the park listening to All Time Low through my earphones and reading Wattpad stories on my iPhone, we would all be jetting off to a small harbour in the Caribbean, where we would be setting off on a cruise. I’ve been worrying my parents as of late, what with the dark clothing, the tattoo that’s now adorning my forearm and the piercing, as well as the fact I’m the school weirdo, and spend all my time by myself. Not that I mind. My brother, Lewis, has always been one of the ‘poplar’s’ and doesn’t understand my solitary existence. The cruise is supposed to be a family bonding holiday, but I’ve been by myself the entire time. I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed, or at ease in my life before though. 

The ocean stretches out as far as the eye can see, the clear turquoise tinged waters lapping gently at the sides of the boat. There’s about ten families in total that I’ve seen so far. I guess boat is really the wrong word to describe the vessel. Slightly smaller than a cruise ship, but a lot bigger than a boat, I’ve taking to calling it simply the boat. Its stuck.  
With my eyes closed, the sounds of the water splashing against the boat is louder, and clearer in my ears. I’m more re-enacting Titanic right now than basking in the sunshine than my bearded dragon, Rex, but I feel at one with the warm breeze dancing around my shoulders, buffeting my black t-shirt. 

“I’m really scare you’re going to fall off. Can you come down before I have a miniature heart or panic attack?” A smooth voice calls out, and startled as I believed I was alone, I stumbled slightly, my sandals skidding against the plastic surface beneath my feet as my quick reflexes save me from being tumbling into the waters below. Swiftly jumping back over the railings, I land lightly on the decking behind them, and blink as I catch sight of a boy around my age curled up against the rigging, soaking up the sunshine over his tanned bare chest. 

“Who the hell are you?” I ask him abruptly. Years of being beaten up at high-school takes its toll, despite what my brother may believe. 

The boy raises an arm lazily in a slight wave, before sitting up. I scan my blue gaze over his toned body, taking in the curly brown hair, warm brown eyes and cheeky grin. He’s clad in a pair of white shorts, and nothing else, his bare feet resting against the warm wooden floor. 

“Bradley Will Simpson.” He replies, the permanent grin attached to his features still there as he watches me. “But call me Brad. Everyone does.” He contemplates this for a second, before adding with a slight chuckle: “Apart from my Mum.”

I take a couple of steps closer, watching him cautiously. How some people are so confident as to being able to sunbathe in public I can never comprehend. 

“Aren’t you going to call me your name?” Brad asks me and I finally give in, sinking down to the sun-scorched wood beside him. His brown eyes watch me intently.

“Connor.” I decide on telling him, keeping the rest of my identity a secret. My parents would call it trust issues. I call it watching my back, a trade well learnt after my failed attempt at UK high-schools. 

Brad grins at me cheerfully, before leaping to his feet. “Well hey there Connor. I’m pretty lonely, and my sister Nat’s just on her phone the whole time, so I could do with a friend, and you look pretty lonely, and upset so why don’t we hang out?” 

“I’m not upset, and I’m used to my own company,” I protest, staying motionless for a moment while he regards me, a slight expression of hurt appearing for a minute before the cheeky smile re-appears.

“You’re wearing black in the Caribbean. That’s something people do when they’re somewhat depressed.” He explains. 

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Stop insulting my clothing choice, Simpson.”

He sniggers, before leaning over and offering me a hand up. “They’re selling non-alcoholic drinks at the bar now. Want to come with me?”

“Why are you speaking to me?” I inquire, climbing to my feet with ease that comes from years of hiding on top of bike sheds from the burly popular guys with dyed hair and piercings. You’d have figured we’d get along. 

“Because you looked sad, and you’re beautiful, and you’re mysterious. I want to get to know you, Mr Mysterious and Intriguingly Beautiful Connor.” 

I stare at him in shock. My entire life I’ve been called a freak, and its only due to the buckets of sweat I’d produce otherwise that I’m wearing a t-shirt instead of a dark hoodie. No one has ever thought I were beautiful, or ever wanted to talk me out of their own free will and chosen to before now, yet Brad seems genuine. 

I’ve now got a choice of what path my life is going to head down for the next two months at least. With his dark curly hair and stunning looks, Brad is the kind of guy I could only ever dream of. 

Which is one of the reasons why, with a nervous smile, I let him rest his arm round my shoulders. 

“Okay.”

-

\- James’ POV - 

“I don’t want to go. It’ll be boring and people will be talking non-stop at me as per usual,” I whine dramatically, flopping back on the white sheets covering the bed, and watching the patterns the ocean outside the window creates as its reflected onto the ceiling above me. 

My sister, Sophie, is sat at the dressing table, her feet tucked up under her colourful skirt as she rolls her eyes at me. “James, oh my god, just because you’re popular at school, doesn’t mean everyone everywhere is always going to lust over you like some sort of God, stop being so stuck up.”

I toss a pillow at her and she catches it in one hand easily, lifting one of the earrings threateningly at me. “It’s sharp, and would hurt.”

Narrowing my eyes, I drop the subject, casting a pitiful look at my mother anyway, who glances away. The truth is that we came on this cruise to try and get me to relax a bit. Despite the popular cool kid persona that I’m considered at school, with everyone obsessing over me, keeping that reputation up has resulted in my grades dropping. The irony of my entire problem is that I hate being the popular person. I’d much rather be one of the quiet emo kids listening to music on their iPods behind the lockers, hiding from the Sports teachers. 

“James, why don’t you go outside? There’s a perfectly respectable family in the cabin just down from us, with a son around your age. He seems very nice. Why don’t you go make friends?”

I send my Mum a scorching glare. Those particular choice of words for some reason always make me feel like she’s talking down to me and making me feel inferior. “I’m not five.”

“No, you’re seventeen, and you’re still under my care as you’re my son.” Her tones soften as she lowers her voice. “Go outside, and have some fun, sweetheart. Please?”

With a groan, I lift myself off the bedsheets, slinging on a red t-shirt that clings to my skin, still clammy from working out earlier, and open the door as I prepare to head downstairs to the open deck. If I’m lucky then I’ll get some good alone time to think without being bombarded for once. 

Sophie calls after me. “He’s called Tristan. The guy your age.”

“So?” I meet her pointed look. My sexuality has eternally been questioned over the years, much to the ignorance of my peers at high-school. 

“He’s hot,” She adds with a wink and I roll my eyes, before sneaking her a grin, mouthing ‘thanks’ under my breath, her nod confirming she’s seen. My sister is pretty easy to get on with most of the time, despite the stereotype of younger siblings being irritating.

The sun envelops me in a warm embrace as I step out into the sunshine. A tall, skinny, blonde haired boy is sitting on the very edge of the railings, his feet dangling over the edge as he sketches something on the back of his hand, his skin acting as his easel. The thought it must be Tristan crosses my mind as I cross over to him, my bare feet making no sound against the floor. 

“James, right?” I jump, startled that he knew I was there without looking up. “I’m Tristan. Tris for short.” He glances up, revealing stunning blue eyes that make me feeling like I’m drowning in their oceanic depths as I sit down beside him. 

“Yes.”

“I’m bored, and this ship’s massive. You up for exploring a bit more?” 

It feels good not be judged for once, and running a hand through my blonde hair, I grin back at him. “Sure.”


	2. There's A Smile That Could Light Up A Thousand Lives

\- Connor's POV - 

The bar area is smaller than I'd expected, with around five other people two of which are a young couple dotted around at tables. Fairy lights which clearly cast a warm glow over the polished wooden surface of the bar at night are draped over the back, and tropical flowers are growing from some red pots in the corner. 

Brad seems relaxed, like he's used to being here. I barely know him, for all I know he could do. I'm only guessing he's around my age from his looks, yet I've known a twenty-year-old who looked younger than me. There's traditional Caribbean music whistling from some carefully placed speakers and I can hear it every beat. 

"So, what do you want?" Brad asks, sliding onto a red bar stall and leaning forwards to rest his elbows on the counter. The bartender looks slightly bored as he emerges from the shadowy corner he's been buried in, slipping one earphone out of his left ear, and scratching the back of his neck as he glances me up and down. 

"Hey there Brad. Who's this then?" I glance across at Brad who doesn't seemed to have picked up on the hostile tones of this apparent friend. Not that I'm disused to people instantly taking a dislike to me, I just wish I knew why, and what's so different about Brad that he can't pick up on it. 

Brad raises his eyebrows at me. "This is Connor. And get us whatever you recommend."

"That would be underage drinking," The tall man remarks, with a slight smirk appearing as he turns away from us to fetch the beverages. Brad turns to me, rolling his eyes as he shrugs back at the bartender. 

"He's a strange one. Sometimes friendly and other days he'll rip you apart."

"What's today?" I find myself asking, my hands shaking slightly despite my desperate attempts not to. I really need to find my camera, or at least my temporary polaroid one so I can start taking some pictures to try and relax again. This is the most socialising I've done in weeks, even months if we're not counting my family.

"Not sure." Brad replies, grinning as the other man slides two glasses over the counter, shooting Brad a look that I can't interpret. "So, tell me about yourself."

I almost spit out my drink, hurriedly dropping the glass back down to the counter as I stare at him in bemusement. "What? Why would you want to know about me?"

Brad just winks as an answer, and I gaze out at the glittering seas outside to try and calm down. My hands are sweating, and as my wrists are close together I can feel my heartbeat quickening. If I freak out now, then I'll lose the first friend I've had in years.

"What do you want to know?"

"Name, age, any family, social life, hobbies and interests, pets and favourite band." Brad announces, flipping one of his curls out of his eyes. "In that order."

I shake my head, glancing down at the floor where an iridescent beetle is slowly crawling along the decking. "Um, Connor. As you know."

"No, not that. Your full name." Brad leans back, crossing his ankles and swinging round his chair as he regards me with his cheerful gaze. He seems to just emit happiness, like some sort of sun beam. 

Oh this is such a bad idea. "Connor Samuel John Ball. 15. My parents, obviously, and a brother. My social life is non-existent," I pause, biting my lip slightly before gathering the courage to continue on. "I spend most of time hiding on top of bike sheds. Hobbies and interests include photography, singing and anything musical really. One bearded dragon, called Rex, and he's awesome. Favourite band? Probably All Time Low."

Brad watches me intently. "Okay. Bradley Will Simpson, as you already knew. 16. My parents and a sister. A pretty epic social life, and I make YouTube covers of songs, so you could say I'm into music. Skateboarding is another favourite, and I gave up on Scouts after a terrifying incident involving a bonfire and a garden shed. My dog's called Jesse, and she's like the best thing ever. My favourite band is maybe the Arctic Monkeys."

I laugh, running a hand through my light brown hair. Everything about this is somewhat insane as this is me, and no one's ever wanted to know about my story before. 

Brad finishes his drink, before jumping down, and pulling me with him, his fingers closing around my wrist as he starts running along the open deck, leaving the bar behind us. The sunshine warms my back as I speed up into a fast jog to match his pace, forgetting my problems for the minute and relaxing into Brad's grip. His hands are warm around mine as he scrambles over a balcony, and pulls open a pair of glass sliding doors. 

I stare after him for a moment, before he re-appears. "Hurry up, Con!"

"I'm coming, wait up!" Jumping over the white railings is not a problem, and I land softly on the other side to be greeted with Brad's family's cabin. A teenage girl slightly older than us and clearly his sister is lying on the bed, editing some photographs on her laptop and she glances over to me in surprise. 

"New friend?"

"Yup. Be nice Nat." Brad calls back, switching his t-shirt he'd put on in the bar for a lose fitting short sleeved shirt, and I try to evert my eyes from his torso. His sister watches me in amusement for a moment or two. 

"You're pretty nervous, aren't you? Not like most of my brother's friends."

"M-me?" I stammer back, hiding my shaking hands behind my back and glances down at the cream coloured carpet where a pair of sand covered flip-flops have been deserted. "N-no."

She laughs, hiding her obvious smile behind her laptop screen. I try not to wonder about whether or not she's judging me. Most people do. At least with my arms behind my back she hasn't spotted the tattoo which means I haven't been labelled the bad boy type yet thank god. 

"Hey Con, want to go swimming?"

I close my eyes for a second, concentrating on breathing and blocking out Brad's slightly concerned voice. My face feels like it's on fire. I didn't bring any swimming wear because I'm too self-conscious to take my top off. That, and the fact I have some colourful bruises decorating my chest from the last meeting I had with the school gangs. 

"I don't have any swimming kit, my brother's using it at the moment I think." The lie slips out easily from my mouth and I pray Brad will drop it. Instead he shrugs, before bending over and lifting up a second towel with something wrapped in it. 

"Its fine, I've got spare. You can borrow it if you want?"

His voice sounds so hopeful and the uplifting aura he seems to give off sends my hopes of escaping the situation in one-piece plummeting to depths of the Mariana Trench as I slowly nod. 

"Cool."

The swimming pool isn't busy as most people are sleeping after lunch. As per usual, I've forgotten to eat something, which is fine as I eat loads at Dinner anyway, normally finishing off Lewis' plate as he leaves some behind to go and chat to the daughter of the family staying just down from us. The waters of the pool are clear and shimmer in the sunlight, and the cool inviting depths would certainly be a welcome relief from the tropical heat sending the sweat trickling down my back. 

Brad lifts off his shirt with ease, tossing it to the side, and diving into the waters in a single, fluid movement, sending cool droplets over my body like a small rain shower. Surfacing again, he laughs, kicking out and drifting on his back, glancing over at me as he continues to relax in the water like some sort of fish or turtle. 

I've well and truly dug myself into a hole. Whatever, he'll realise what a freak I am in a couple of days anyway, so what do I even have to lose? Kicking the t-shirt to one side, I pointedly ignore the purple patterns adorning my chest and flop back to land in the water, sending a wave over Brad. 

"Hey!" He splutters, laughing loudly, and splashing me back, diving under water to tackle me. He's stronger than I was expecting, and the laughter continues as he pins me against the wall to send a mini tsunami of water into my face before his gaze flickers down to the bruising over my body. 

Aw crap. 

"Connor..." He murmurs. "What's this?"

"I told you my social life was non-existent. Every school's got the freak to laugh at, so I'm the perfect target." My voice sounds more bitter than I was expecting, and I stare down at the ground, fighting back the traitorous tears that burn the back of my eyes in an effort to show. 

Brad reaches out with one hand, tilting my chin up to stare into his warm brown eyes as he traces along the bruises with his other hand, his fingers soft against my skin and tickling as I stare back at him. 

"Don't put yourself down like that. They're all weirdos themselves and they'll get what's coming to them some day. In the meantime, I'm your friend, and I think you're amazing anyway."

I smile faintly. "Really?" A water droplet trickles down from his damp hair and drips onto my nose, making me realise quite how close we are to each other. Brad doesn't seem in the least bit concerned by this as he buries his face in my shoulder, holding me in a warm hug as his voice lowers to a whisper. 

"You're really special Connor. Believe me."

This summer isn't going to last forever, the little voice in the back of my mind reminds me, a cruel taunting tone that pricks at my anxiety before I ignore it, concentrating on the fact that Brad is hugging me, and he quite obviously cares. I'm not sure why, but with the sun reflecting off the water around us, blinding me in the bright light, the least I can do is try and be happy for this summer. 

After all, people like Brad Simpson don't come along that often. Once in a lifetime, if you're lucky.

-

\- James' POV -

"You don't talk much, do you?" Tristan asks me, his voice hinting that its more of a statement than a question as he switches his blue pen for a black inked one, adding a star to the fur of the lion he's currently sketching on the back of his left hand. I'm not as good at art as I'd like to be and watching Tris drawing is fascinating. He's too damn good. 

The warm air is almost too hot, with it being just past noon resulting in the sun being at its highest point. Normally I'd sunbathe whilst listening to my iPod and tuning out of my everyday way too stressful life. A soft breeze weaves its way through the shimmering heat waves, and I've never been so grateful for something cool since I'd won the Sports' Day gold medal and had almost got heatstroke. 

I glance across at Tristan to see if he's expecting an answer. I'm quite happy to let the younger boy, even if only by one year, chatter away, and I've been listening to most of it. Having someone else keep the conversation going is something I've never really appreciated before now. 

He seems to be waiting for a reply, whilst sweeping his slightly long blonde hair out of his face and holding it in place with a tiger print bandana, tucking the pencil behind his ear at the same time. 

"Normally I do. I just like not having the attention on me for once."

"Oh God. You're not one of those really rich and stuck up popular kids in reality are you?"

I wince, turning away from him to glance over the side of the ship. A seagull is following our course as well, its wicked beak glinting in the sunlight. If I stare too closely at the surface of the water, my eyes deceive me into spotting silvery shoals of fish, flickering in and out of view. Tristan stays silent for a moment, realising he may or may not have upset me, the truth being that the jibe despite being somewhat unintentional still stung painfully. 

Despite my family being somewhat rich, and being the popular one, I'm too caring of others, and my determination to only see the best in people has gotten me into trouble more than once in the past. Tristan's instant judging of me by my supposed stereotype is a small reminder that I'm not free anywhere. 

"Sorry," He murmurs for a moment, before grinning at me cheerfully, the breeze sending a strand of his hair tumbling down from the bandanna. "Hey, come with me. I've got to show you something!" 

"Where are you going?" I sigh as he takes off at top speed, only to turn around, jump onto the railings and catch hold of some rigging to leap up onto the roof of the main cabins. The rigging up to one of the viewing platforms only the crew are supposed to use is easily accessed from there, and Tristan continues to climb up it like a spider monkey until he reaches the crow's nest and perches there like some sort of sea bird. 

"Come on up, Jems!" He yells down to me, seemingly tiny from the great height. I don't suffer from Vertigo and I have good upper body strength but my last adventures on something similar ended in disaster and a broken arm. But Tristan seems over excited at the thought of showing me his little hide away and the realisation that this is his special secret place he feels the safest and free and he wants to show me dawns. 

Taking a deep breath, I spread my fingers feeing the wind whistle through them as I make my way onto the top of the roof in a single jump. This is the hard part, getting up that goddam rigging. It sags beneath my feet and I close my eyes, feeling my heartrate increasing until Tristan appears right next to me, his hand on my shoulder as he guides my hands and feet to the next step. 

"James?" He asks me, his voice soft and quieter than usual, close to my ear as he rubs my back comfortingly, figuring that I'm freaking out. "Step forwards. We're here."

The solid ground of the Crow's nest is a welcome relief beneath my feet as I double over, holding back a sob. 

"God, James, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were scared of heights." Tristan bites his bottom lip, looking horrified and deeply worried at the same time as he drops to a sitting position besides me and watches me intently. I lick my lips, before glancing up at him, chuckling somewhat hysterically. 

"That's funny, neither did I."

Tristan smiles, before holding out an arm, seeming confident, and yet I have no idea what he's going on about until he rolls his eyes and pulls me into a hug. 

"Bloody hell, are you not all affectionate with your friends?"

"They'd judge me." I murmur, closing my eyes again, the thought that I haven't looked around my new surroundings yet swiftly crossing my mind. 

"They're not your friends then. Do you like hugs?"

I smile as his grip around my shoulder tightens. "I love them. I've got a lot of things I'd like to tell someone but I don't have any real friends, you're right."

Tristan considers this new nugget of information for a moment before smiling. "I'm your friend, I promise you."

"Best friends forever, huh?" I laugh and he nods against my hair. I'm pretty sure I must be tickling his chin but he's not complaining. Instead he lets me rest my head against his chest as we lean back slightly, and then he draws his other arm over me so that I'm completely wrapped up in a comforting embrace. 

"You ready to look around yet?"

"No," I admit, opening my eyes to glance up at him. He frowns, before grinning and retrieving his pen from behind his ear, reaching for my arm. The pen tickles my skin as he works, his intent gaze watching every carefully inked line until he finally finishes and shoves the pen back under his bandana. 

"Wow," I murmur upon seeing the image he's created on my forearm. A fluffy tiger cub stares back at me with wide eyes. It's beautiful, and I squeeze his hand slightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, look around." Finally, I raise my head from his chest and stop short, staring. The expression on top of the world seems quite literal in this sense as I can see everything. Sunlight reflecting off aqua coloured waters, and a small pod of dolphins to the left. A seagull, on the stern. Two boys around our age, laughing and chatting in the swimming pool on deck. But mainly because the breeze is whipping through my hair and I can see all the horizons, and everything seems small in comparison to where I am. 

Somehow, Tristan Evans, whom I have only known for just over forty minutes, has shown me something that's made me feel free and happy and cared for by simply helping me climb up some rigging, something which the so called friends would never have dreamed of, and would call me a weirdo for finding this beautiful. For finding Tris amazing. 

I didn't realise I was standing up until Tristan joins me, resting his head on my shoulder as he smiles, taking in my expression. 

"I thought you'd like it."

"Trissy-" the nickname slips out unintended but he doesn't comment on it – "Thanks. Just...wow."

"You should feel happy with your friends," He tells me, a grin lighting up his features as he realises how exhilarated and happy I feel. "I just needed to show you that you don't need them to be yourself, and to be free."


	3. My Secrets Will Be Yours If You Refuse To Listen

“Hey, watch where you’re going weirdo.” 

“Watch your language yourself freak.” Brad replies instantly to the muscly teenager about a couple of years older than us, whose stretched out over a deckchair, which in typical Connor fashion, I trip over and go flying on top of this guy. See what I mean about everyone taking an instant dislike to me? Complete with snake bite piercings, the guy has tattoos stretching around his neck and the typical cool kid haircut, while he glares at me with narrowed eyes. 

Realising I’m still half lying across his feet, I scramble backwards, wrapping my towel tighter around my shoulders and then recognising what Brad’s just said. 

“What the hell did you just call me?” 

Brad, ignorant of the danger that I can tell is about to unfold from a) experience and b) the tones of this guy’s voice, smirks, running a hand through his hair as he tips his sunglasses down his nose slightly to take in the full appearance of the guy in front of us. 

“A freak. I mean it is a fact, whereas you were telling lies about my friend here, so really and truthfully-”

“Brad, this might be a really good time to shut up,” I hiss across to him and he just gives me one of his trade mark grins before sizing the figure in front of him up and chuckling. 

“Its fine. Little punk rocker ain’t gonna lay a finger on me.”

“Oh god,” I groan, rolling my eyes as suddenly little punk rocker becomes a lot less little, drawing himself up to his full height as he unfolds himself from the deck chair, towering over us both, but the darkening scowl on his face mainly based at Brad, who swallows nervously with a just audible curse underneath his breath as he realises he’s made a mistake. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” I step in, with a hesitant smile, looking at the angry teen in front me as best as I can in the bright light. “We’ll just go, and you can forget all about us, right?”

“No one calls me a freak, you little stuck up rich kid,” He shouts, shoving Brad back against the wall, drawing back a fist that I know will hurt a lot. Brad, for his part, looks half terrified and half shocked as he locks gazes with me in a silent warning not to step in. 

“Get the hell away from him.” A cool voice announces, and the fist drops slightly. Holding my breath, I glance somewhat nervously over my shoulder. Dressed in a lose fitting top, and a pair of shorts, the tall well-tanned blonde figure takes a step closer, a skinny teen behind him with drawings spread out over his skin like graffiti watching in somewhat interest, but his hands clutched in fists by his side, ready to step in if necessary. For the first time in my life, so am I, because it’s obviously my fault we’re in a stand-off on top of the decking right now, and there’s no way I’m letting Brad take the blame for me. 

The jet black dyed haired youth casts a glance over the boy challenging him. They’re both incredibly fit (and not just as in attractive) and I get the feeling that the newcomer can pack a punch. Instead of paying heed to the silent warning the blonde is sending his way, the teen narrows his eyes at me and the tall blonde places a gentle hand on my shoulder, pushing me behind him next to graffiti boy as I silently name him in my name. Maybe lion boy given the drawing on his hand. 

“It’s between me and kid here. Bugger off, will ya?”

“Tris, make sure he won’t get in the way?” The first blonde murmurs to graffiti boy with a glance at me before stepping between Brad and the teen and punching the youth straight in the face. He crumples to the floor, half conscious and the blonde rubs his fist, a slight hiss escaping between his clenched teeth as he runs a finger over the bruised skin. 

“What’s he made of – bricks? It’s like punching a freaking car.”

Brad slips out of the shadows, sliding his glasses off and sighing in relief as he sinks to the floor. “Wow.”

“You two okay? I’m James McVey.”

“Tristan Evans,” Graffiti boy calls out in a greeting and glancing at me curiously. 

“Connor Ball.”

“Brad Simpson.”

“So, now that’s over with, anyone coming for dinner to help avoid another awkward silent meal, and to prove I didn’t spend the afternoon aimlessly wandering around?”

“You did wander aimlessly around,” Tristan teases, ducking James’ playful swing and laughing at the look of mock outrage on his friend’s face. 

“Sure. Con?” Brad confirms and I glance down before summoning my confidence and nodding, offering Brad a hand up which he accepts gratefully, slinging an arm around my shoulders like earlier as he looks over Tristan’s ink covered skin with interest. Tristan notices but doesn’t say anything as James jumps barefoot over the railing onto the roof of the cabin below, and slipping in through the skylight, with a short yell of: 

“Come and meet my family!” 

After him. Brad stares incredulously at me before shrugging. 

“Oh what the hell?” I mutter aloud, before following, Tristan and Brad close behind me. Compared to the small cabin my family’s staying in, James may as well be sleeping in a castle. The room is massive, with the same cream painted walls that every cabin in the ship has, yet with a massive bathroom, a balcony and a separate attaching smaller room for James, not even beginning on the décor, it’s obvious quite how rich the McVey’s are.

Tristan lets out a long wolf whistle, dancing his fingers along a glass table top. 

“You can talk, your cabin’s just as bad. You’re just down the corridor from me, so it must be.” James points out, crossing his arms in a somewhat defensive stance which surprises me given that we just witnessed him knock a man out with a single punch. 

“Wow, did a certain brother actually get some friends? Or am I hallucinating again?”

“Um, probably, you’re spending so much time on that balcony that I wouldn’t be surprised to find you’d come down with sunstroke.”

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to make you the person to accidentally puke over.”

James laughs after catching the brown haired girl’s eye, before swinging round to face us. “This is my sister, Sophie. Soph, meet Tris, Brad and Connor.”

“Hey there. Good to meet you. Keep James out of this cabin for longer than twenty-four hours and I’ll give you all a medal.”

“I’ve got some ideas,” Tristan smirked earning himself a light punch to the shoulder from James. Brad appears by my side, turning some sort of expensive ornament round in his hands, leaving fingerprints over it. The internal cringing at how amazing everything is and yet I’m standing amongst it is coming back to hit me again, so escaping into the bright sunlight is a welcome relief.

“Are you okay?” Tristan asks me, following me out onto the balcony. A lone white deckchair lays abandoned and I watch in amusement as he flops down onto it like a cat, tapping his pen in a steady rhythm on the side. He should definitely take up drumming.

“Yeah. Why?” I hide my eyes, burying my face in my arms as I lean against the railings. There’s the beginnings of the daily laughter drifting through the air from some sort of kids’ club that’s been arranged for the younger ones. It’s nice to think how innocent they are right now, and if I had my way then Lewis wouldn’t ever have to face high-school. Someone inventing a time machine would certainly be handy. 

“I can tell when people are hiding something that makes them unhappy.”

“What, so now you’re psychic?”

“I was going with way too creepily perceptive, but hey, being psychic sounds way cooler.”

I sink down onto the cool plastic beside him, and hooking one hand round my arm he drags me to lie down next to him, far too close for personal space to be considered in any way – I can practically feel his breathing against my neck as he rests his head against my chest. 

“Can I draw on you?”

“Okay.”

I let my blue eyes scan his inked skin for clues to the inspiration or a reason for the images but find myself empty handed still. The ink itches slightly as he lightly draws it across my skin, the black liquid drying quickly in the humid air. 

“What are you drawing?” I ask him quietly, wriggling in an attempt to see, but with Tristan’s full weight lying on top of my chest I’m more or less his captive until he’s come to the decision to let me go. My arm is silhouetted against the sunlit sky so I can’t make out the sketch until he lets me, gently resting my arm over his waist. 

“I figured you’d like something like that?” He murmurs, his voice a lot quieter than when we’re around Brad and James. I can pick up on the distinct sense of sadness and lonely desperation that I succumb to most of my waking hours, and I can’t work out why. Tristan seems happy enough, but there’s something about the drawings over his body that makes me wonder. They’re like a story – a comic book and if I can read them then I’ll be able to figure out what’s worrying him, because he clearly doesn’t want Brad or James to know. Maybe like he mentioned, he’s perceptive, and I’m the only one out of the four of us who would understand?

Lifting my arm, I shift over slightly so I can sit up and then take in the drawing. Tris is unbelievably talented, that’s for certain, and by the way the blush settles over his cheekbones, he’s realising what I’m thinking. 

“How did you know?” I inquire, turning to stare at him and finding him close to me again as I smile down at the bearded dragon etched over my skin. He shrugs, offering me a small grin. 

“People don’t pay attention most of the time so they miss things. I just like to pay attention to what makes people happy.”

“What about you?” I catch myself asking before I can claw the words back and he stiffens. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.” With that, he leaps over the balcony, landing lightly like a monkey and sprinting off away over the roofs below to disappear down a fire escape hatch. 

“Tristan!” I yell after him desperately. As per usual, I’ve messed up, and James and Brad come running out onto the balcony beside me, Brad ducking the sunglasses back over his eyes as the startling light causes him to wince. 

“What happened? What did you say to him?” James’ voice isn’t accusing, just curious as he frowns at where our friend’s disappeared to. Brad rests a hand on my shoulder in a silent word of comfort but for once I don’t care about what I’m feeling, instead Tristan’s dark secret whatever it may be causing my natural curiosity to flare up. 

“I don’t know,” I murmur, tracing the lines making up the bearded dragon’s tail on my arm as I stare at the horizon. “But I’m going to find out.”

-

\- James’ POV - 

“Oh my god, look how cool this is!”

“Yeah, oh my god Brad, you’re flying.” I remark dryly as I watch Connor support the dark haired boy’s back as Brad stands up on the top of the railings at the front of the boat. We’re due at dinner in less than half an hour but we’re all slightly shaken up over Tristan’s reaction to Con’s simple question, so Brad suggested watching the sunset from deck. 

“Stop quoting Titanic, you’ll jinx everything.” Connor throws the retort back at me, the wide grin appearing on his face revealing that he’s joking, the tones of his voice much lighter and more relaxed than this afternoon. Brad leans back slightly and Connor lets out a startled squeak as the extra pressure is applied to his arms without warning and I jump up from where I’m lying across the decking like a domestic housecat to try and help, just as Connor takes a step back to compensate, and we end up collapsing on top of each other in a heap. 

“Well then. Hey there. Didn’t realise you found me so attractive as to fall for me already?” Brad teases cheekily as Connor opens his eyes to find himself inches from Brad’s face. They’re both sprawled on top of me and I groan, resting my head on the sun warmed wood.

“What did I say about you jinxing stuff, Jems?” Connor whines attempting to wriggle free. 

“Really guys? I leave you alone for five hours and you start making out on the decking?”

“Tristan!” I yelp, at the same as Connor makes an indignant noise, his pale complexion flushing as Brad contemplates that for a moment. 

“I don’t know; it was a pretty comfortable puppy pile.”

I shove them both off me, slightly concerned by how light Connor is to hug Tris probably too over enthusiastically as he grins, shaking his head sending blond strands into his face. 

“Why did you leave earlier?”

“What are you talking about? I had to go and deal with my sister and brother fighting again, didn’t Connor tell you?”

“What?” Connor asks, startled as he stares at Tris who seems completely sure of himself as he stretches, twirling a pencil between his fingers like it’s a drumstick. 

“Yeah, c’mon Connor, I did ask you to tell everyone?” 

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.” Tristan insists and to my concern, Connor shrinks back slightly, his gaze flitting between Brad and me and the tall blond boy half glaring at him. Biting his lip, Connor takes a step back, before hitting the railings and looking absolutely terrified as he curls his fingers around the loose fabric of his t-shirt. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? Back off.” Brad announces, stepping in front of Connor who flinches, before taking off in a faster run than I’ve seen most kids capable of as he escapes from the slightly intimidating stance Tristan’s acquired. 

“Fantastic.” I mutter, rolling my eyes. God, everywhere I go I seem to attract drama. I should just give it all up and become an actor for real. At least I’d get paid for it. “Just when he started to trust us.”

“How was I supposed to know he’s bloody paranoid?”

“Because, oh I don’t know, he’s wearing black, flinches every time someone goes near him, has got bruising on his arms which I know damn well you saw, and also because Brad mentioned earlier when Con was getting a drink that when he first met him, he seemed to be contemplating jumping off the goddamn ship. That’s why.” I cut in sharply and Tristan sends me a betrayed look. 

“And we heard you two talking earlier. Why did you lie?” Brad adds, his expression crossing into a more confused territory than his anger a few moments earlier. Tris ignores us both, instead heading after Connor.

“We’ll meet you at the table with James’ family. I need to talk to him. I’ll be back soon.”

“Great.” I mutter, before glancing over at Brad. The younger boy still looks shocked about Tris’ sudden attitude changes and to be honest I can’t say I blame him. Especially taking it out on Connor the way he did, is totally the opposite of the caring teenager who took me up the rigging earlier, but I can only hope he’ll work it out with Con. Despite what happens, if I don’t turn up at the table in the next few minutes then there’ll be hell to pay.

“Okay, we should go before your parents get worried. C’mon.” Brad tugs me along by the wrist and I eye him suspiciously. 

“What, you think you can beat me in a race, ay Simpson?”

“Damn right.”

“Okay then.” I laugh, the challenge presenting a way to run off the stress as well, particularly as Brad is easy going and not too competitive unlike Tris, or my sister. “On the count of three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

I spit sand from Brad’s sandals out of my mouth, glaring after him. “Bradley! You are such a cheat!”

His laughter just echoes back to me.


	4. Stars Will Let You Smile

“Hey, Connor? Are you down there?” Tristan’s voice sounds mildly concerned, something which surprises me somewhat given his apparent hatred of me a few minutes ago. For a while I can convince myself I’m alone still, tucking my ankles under me and curling the spare rigging around me like a safety-net. Since the sun’s setting the temperature has fallen slightly to a much more comfortable climate, so I’m lying on a small ledge around half way up the side of the ship. If anyone saw me then I’d be in deep trouble and as it is I’m having to keep an eye on the weather, just in case of slightly higher waves which would easily sending me falling into the waters below.

Tristan’s footsteps get slightly heavier, an indication that he’s attempting to climb down the slippery side of the ship to join me. Right, like that’s happening any time soon. Unfortunately for me however, I’m cornered as the only way out of my hiding place is up, which would involve climbing past Tris, who I suspect is stronger than his skinny form would indicate. So instead I back away further into the shadows. Blending in, going invisible is my speciality even if nothing else is.

“Found you, finally.” Tris announces, landing with a soft thud beside me, letting the plastic beneath our feet shake slightly before stopping as he casts an anxious look down at it, as though it’s going to collapse any moment. For some reason I feel like I’m about to laugh, and I can’t put my finger on why.

“It’s not going to break,” I tell him quietly, and he holds out his hands in a peace sign as he scans my defensive posture with brilliant blue eyes. For a couple of seconds, I consider not letting him come any closer, but he’s one of the closest I’ve had to a friend in a long time, so I owe him a chance at an apology at least I guess. 

“I’ll leave if you tell me to, but it’s not Brad or James’ fault, so go and have dinner with them?”

Inwardly cursing myself as I roll my eyes, I shift over a couple more inches to give him room to seat down without invading his personal space, but he completely ignores the gesture, instead leaning in as close to me as possible. It’s almost like he craves human touch, as though he’s never had a hug before, which is a complete lie because I overhead James thanking him about some sort of embrace earlier.

“I didn’t want to come across as ganging up on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We’re cool.”

“Wait, what?” Tris stares at me with wide eyes as he leans back slightly to take in my expression as though checking whether I’m lying or not. “You’re forgiving me just like that?”

“You’re my friend.”

“Best friend. And wow, I mean I was such a jerk…”

“Yeah, you kind of were.” I laugh as he shoots me a mock betrayed look before scrambling to my feet, kicking the ropes away from my ankles and begin climbing like a spider monkey up the side of the ship, amused at Tristan’s much slower pace. Bending over to catch his breath, he glances back up at me with a questioning look. 

“What? James asked us to join him and we’re sort of late, y’know?” I don’t even have to look at Tris to know that he’s grinning.

-

“So tell me again Bradley, you’re studying what at school?” 

I choke back a laugh at the traumatised look on Brad’s face, not just due to the fact he’s been called by his proper name at least ten times so far this evening, but now my Dad’s moved on to the school interrogation. It’s somewhat hilarious and I close my hands into fists around the tissue in my lap to try and refrain from laughing aloud. 

“James wants to be singer, don’t you?” Mum adds with a generous smile for good measure, with a raised eyebrow at me. According to what Brad just told my father, the younger boy wants to be some sort of doctor or something similar to that sort of career choice. 

“Mum,” I groan, resting my head on the table and hiding my face in my hands. “You know I don’t like telling people about my singing.”

“Oh yes, but Brad is a bit different to your other friends, isn’t he?”

“They’re not even my real friends,” I mutter sullenly, glancing up to see my parents exchange worried looks before they turn the conversation back to Sophie who is more than happy to soak up the praise as she talks about her latest vintage project at school. A gentle kick lands on my ankle and I look up to see Brad grinning at me. 

 

‘You like singing?’ He mouths across at me with a wink, which instantly sends the blush across my face as I think of revealing the singing secret as I’ve nicknamed it over the years. My covers on YouTube are kept completely private in fear of anyone from school discovering them. 

But this is Brad. 

‘Yes.’ I mouth back and he puts his head on one side, watching me for a second in the warm lighting of the dining room before lifting his fork again. 

“I play guitar. And I make song covers on YouTube.” He mentions casually and my Mum claps her hands together gleefully. 

“Oh, how wonderful. You and James could sing together!”

“No, Mum, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Yeah, that would be awesome,” Brad cuts in, staring at me for a moment with his Bambi like brown eyes, his hair ruffled from where he’s run his hand through it several times already. It never fails to make me laugh at how worried my friends seem around my parents, as though they’re serial killers or something. 

“Hey, there. Mr and Mrs McVey, right? I’m Tristan Evans, and I’m staying with the family with the noisy kids just down the corridor from you.” Tristan appears seemingly out of nowhere as he smiles cheerfully at my parents, his blond hair smoothed back hinting that he’s actually brushed it for once in the first time since I met him earlier. A nervous shadow lurks behind him until Tris holds up one finger to signal for one moment and then drags the figure into the light. “And this is Connor Ball.”

Connor somewhat glares at Tris before nervously fidgeting with his hands as he offers a terrified grin at my Mum and Dad. “Sorry we’re late, I was feeling sea-sick, but I’m okay now.” He murmurs quietly and its clear for an awkward couple of seconds that my parents haven’t heard and Mum leans over to whisper something in Dad’s ear with a glance at Connor before I reach over and kick the chair next to Brad further out. 

“Con, that seat’s free. Tris, lucky you, you get to sit next to Sophie.” I let the sarcasm drip into my voice and Sophie leans over to hit me on my shoulder, surprisingly strong given her young age. “Ow.”

After a rather stuck up waiter arrives carrying plates of food, I find myself watching Connor carefully since I realised how skinny he was earlier. Unlike Tris, he’s not tall, so he’s not got height as an excuse. He eats around half of his plate before attempting to move his knife and fork around the plate in a way that makes it look like he’s eaten more than he really has before he looks up and accidentally meets my eye. 

Brad gets along with my parents like a house on fire, and Tristan seems pretty relaxed. I’m relieved when my Dad doesn’t comment on the drawings over his hands and arms, which one of my main concerns for tonight. Tristan’s behaving reasonably well considering his usual hyper fun loving personality and then after finishing the food my Mum laughs. 

“Alright then, go on, the lot of you. There’s nowhere bad for you go on this ship, so go and have fun, I know you must be dying to get rid of the embarrassing family, right James?” She calls across the table to me and I grin back at her, before shoving my chair back with a loud squeak, earning myself a glare from stuck-up-waiter-jerk No.1 as he pointedly places the chair to the side. 

“Oh, Mum?”

“Yes?” She glances up at me and I give her smile. 

“Thanks. I love you.”

Then I leave her looking astonished as the four of us disappear out of the packed dining room. 

-

\- Brad’s POV – 

The air is like a warm summer’s day in the UK as far as heat goes, with the sun having set around two and a half hours ago resulting in the temperature dropping. Compared to the heat in the restaurant on board ship though, its seems quite cold at first and I rub my arms to try and warm up. 

Bright lights from the dining areas spill out to illuminate the deck as well as the soft amber lighting strung along the top of the railings. A young couple are sat next to each other talking, and glare over at Tris who jumps up on the railings yelling something in some sort language I don’t understand. Mind you, languages never have been my strong point – including French. 

“Tris, stop annoying people,” James calls over to him and he jumps down when Connor glances up at the sky and grins.

“Guys, c’mon, I want to show you something!” He announces seeming much more cheerful than earlier. It’s somewhat surprising at how quickly we’ve all bonded, and I can’t imagine what Summer’s going to be like when this all ends and I’m by myself again. Alone. Well that’s something I’m used to at least. 

“Con, where are we going?” I try to yell after him but when he turns back to face me, mid climb up part of the cabin walls, the wind blowing through his hair to give him a serious quiff and I find myself laughing instead. 

“You’ll see,” He replies cheerfully, smiling widely back at me before suddenly disappearing into some sort of passageway. Its pitch black, and behind me I hear James curse as Tris accidentally kicks him in the face. Our muffled laughter echoes through what seems like an air vent, until Connor stops and warns me before I smash into his back. “Just look up, and then you’ll see a ladder. It’s some of fire escape hatch or something I think, but climb up and you’ll realise why I brought you here.”

“Okay...?” My voice rises slightly at the end as though I’m asking a question, and Connor sniggers. Reaching up I grab hold of the first rung of the ladder, making some sort of soft squeaking noise as the sudden cold against my hands shocks me. 

Finally, I lie down having reached the top. We’re on the ceiling of the highest part of the ship, and Tris mutters some sort of curse from the darkness until they both appear as well. Connor curls up beside me, resting his head on my chest as he stares up at the massive skies above us with wide blue eyes. 

“Look,” He murmurs, and nothing more needs to be said as I open my eyes and stare. Where we are it seems like the stars are so close that I can reach out and touch them, and the skies are so wide and massive like a blanket wrapping around us all. Connor’s hands are warm against mine and I pull him closer to me as I whisper softly into his ear:

“Wow.”

I don’t need to mention anything else as Tristan lies down on my other side, his fingers tousling my hair and I relax into his touch as James lets the younger blond use his chest as pillow, reaching over to place a hand on Connor’s shoulder so that we’re linked together in a hug, four best friends. 

“Oh my god Con, how did you know this was here?” Tris asks and Connor shrugs. 

“It’s beautiful,” James’ voice is unbelievably quiet as he gazes up at the stars. 

“Wait for it,” Connor whispers, and we stare up at the starlit skies above us until a silver flash shoots across our vision, followed by another, and another, until realisation hits. 

“Shooting stars…you showed us a meteorite shower.” James wonders aloud, and I smile, knowing without asking that this is something special to Connor. 

“I know. I figured that you’re my friends, so, um…yeah.”

“It’s amazing.” James confirms and I laugh aloud as Connor relaxes against me in a tangled hug we all share. 

“Thanks for being my friends.”

“We’ll always be here.” Tris tells him, as though sensing Connor needs the comfort. 

“Of course we will – you’re our own personal star boy.” I murmur aloud, and silence falls so it’s just us watching as the stars tumble across the night above us, beautiful. And maybe my parents would call it a waste of a wish but I smile anyway. 

I wish we’ll be best friends, for infinity.


	5. Ice Will Run Red

“Mum and Dad are going to be wondering where you were last night.”

I’m coming to the decision that Nat is being unnecessarily loud on purpose, just because she must realise I have a headache from being over tired from last night. Tugging the pillow over my head, I groan loudly at her in a warning that if she doesn’t lower her voice then I’m about to turn into the Brad Simpson version of the Kraken which wouldn’t end well for anyone. 

“I know.” I mumble back at her finally, lifting my head from the warm pillows and blankets shrouding me and glance across to where she’s sitting. Nat’s got her Tumblr open and is editing photos ready to be uploaded for her eager fans which jolts my memory. 

Sitting up in bed fully, I run a hand through my tangled curls and then watch her for a couple of moments cautiously, waiting for the right moment to ask for what I want. Nat seems to sense my eyes on her back as she pauses in the steady tapping of her keyboard to turn and raise her eyebrows expectantly at me. 

“So? Brad, I know when you want something.”

“Do you have a polaroid camera or some type of camera you don’t want anymore?”

“Yeah, there’s the one I had last year but Dad got me a better one for Christmas so I only brought it along in case of an emergency with my new one or something.” She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously, crossing her arms. “Why?”

“I want it for Connor.”

Nat laughs, tossing her head back as she does so. “You barely know the kid.”

“He’s different. And you were happy to meet James and Tristan.”

“Yeah, but Connor’s practically mute.”

“He likes photography.” I mention casually and she perks up.

“I guess he can’t be that bad then.” She sighs, shaking her head in mock despair as she shoots me a fond look that only my sister can manage to pull off. “Alright. Give it to him. I don’t need it anyway.”

“Thanks Nat! You’re the best!”

-

“Brad seems nice.” Mum mentions as I pull on my shirt, the fabric ruffling my hair out of shape yet again. Sophie is scrolling through the schedule for tomorrow, when the cruise ship is due to dock in some sort of island and we’re allowed to go into the town there for sight-seeing or shopping or whatever traditional tourism event we’ve decided to trail along with. 

“Yeah, he is.” I reply, reaching for my hair brush and finding it in Sophie’s hand, a self-satisfied look on her face before she takes pity and tosses it back to me. Mum gives me a look that says a lot more than she can put into words. 

“Tristan’s a little…different.” She chooses her words carefully, taking care not to anger me as I tug the brush through my hair. “And Connor is a lot quieter than your usual friends.”

“Connor’s fine.” 

“Oh I’m sure he is; I just don’t want you getting caught up in any problems or things that you shouldn’t do. And the drawings on Tristan’s arms, I was talking to your father about it, I just wonder if they’re the sort of people you should be spending time with.”

“Just don’t even go there,” I tell her with a frown, before tossing the hair brush back to Sophie and kicking open the door with one foot. “I’ll see you later.”

“At least he’s out the cabin now,” Sophie points out in an attempt to defend me as the door closes behind my back. A lone shadow is visible on the decking, betraying that someone is crouched on the roof of the cabin behind me and I freeze before relaxing as I recognise the skinny form. The guy from yesterday is not someone I want to run into by myself. 

“Hi Tris,” I announce and he gives an exasperated sigh before landing lightly, barefoot yet again on the wooden boards beside me. The ink from yesterday is slightly smudged with water droplets just about visible on his fringe as evidence of an earlier shower and he lands an arm around my shoulders before motioning towards the front of the ship. 

“Connor’s awake, by the way,” He mentions, indicating to where the rigging makes up part of the floor to allow you to see the ocean down below. You have to be careful not to trip or slip through the rigging like floor, and I’ve always had doubts about how secure it is. “He’s down there.”

“Let’s go find him.” I shrug free of Tristan’s arm and break into a sprint, skidding down the railings which secure the stairs and stumbling over a discarded towel left by the pool side. The skinny blond behind me sniggers before tripping over said item himself and covering it up by jumping onto the railings of the ship. 

Connor’s stretched out on his back, arms folded beneath his head as he basks in the sunlight like some type of lizard, his eyes closed as he soaks in the warmth. Surprisingly Brad isn’t with him, although considering how long we spent on the roof last night, he’s probably still sleeping. 

Tristan leaps over the decking, slithering down the ropes to land on Connor’s chest, a smirk appearing across his expression as Connor gives a startled yelp and jumps up. 

“Hey there,” Tris drawls with an exaggerated wink for good measure and Connor crosses his arms, sending bracelets rattling softly as he glares at the other blond. 

“Damn you,” he gasps, shoving Tristan away slightly and giving me a mournful look that sends the guilt prickling down my spine. “Why did you let him torture me?”

“God, I’m not that annoying.” Tristan cuts in, grinning as he flops back onto the ropes, trailing his hand down through the gaps to let the warm water rush between his fingers in the wake of the ship that sends the waves spilling across the blue sea surrounding us. “Come and join us,” He calls back to me, nudging the free space by his other shoulder as he drags Connor down by his wrist to his side, letting the younger boy have the most of the sunlight still. 

I cautiously place one foot on the ropes, shooting Connor a questioning look. “It won’t break with all of us on it will it?”

Connor tilts his head on one side as if wondering if I’m for real or not before he breaks out laughing, running a hand through his sand covered hair from where someone’s left their beach shoes on the decking and the sand has been sprawled across the wood. It’s probably Brad if I’m thinking about it logically. 

“It won’t. It’s fine, I promise you.” He confirms, somewhat relieved that I apparently have something I’m scared of as though I were some kind of superhero from a comic book that didn’t freak out over anything. To people at school, they probably believe it. 

“Okay.” I take another step forward until Tristan groans dramatically and wraps his hand around my ankle like a leech, throwing me off balance as he yanks me down to the floor and collapsing next to him. 

“Jems, you okay?” Connor asks in concern and I cautiously open one eye and the other before realisation dawns that I haven’t fallen into the deep waters below. In reality, I’m lying across the ropes with Tris supporting my shoulders to prevent me from getting caught up in the rigging and Connor’s hand is drifting over my forearm in a relaxing gesture. 

“Yeah, I’m…I’m good.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding and sink back into the sun warmed rigging, letting Tristan act like a spider monkey once more as he flings himself back into a more comfortable position between me and Connor, his hand sprawled across my shoulder still as if to confirm that I’m still here and haven’t fallen through the depths below, something which I’m grateful for. 

“Water, huh?” Connor asks quietly, staring at me slightly with wide blue eyes. 

“Deep water.” I reply, taking care to keep my voice low. For some reason I don’t want Tristan to hear, but Connor seems to understand more than he probably should. He doesn’t speak up again, instead closing his eyes again and tilting his face up into the sunlight, shifting out of the shadow cast by Tristan over him. 

The sun is warm and I almost fall asleep before a soft curse echoes from my left and I glance over to find myself unable to keep from laughing as a dishevelled looking Brad picks himself up from the decking. The towel which tripped me up earlier has come back to haunt him as well, and he glares at me petulantly like a five-year-old before he catches sight of Connor and Tristan who are half asleep in the warm weather and motions for silence. 

“What have you done?” I ask him as he clambers down heavily into the ropes, tripping slightly and I reach out quickly to stop him from landing on Connor, earning myself a flash of a grateful smile as a reward. 

“I haven’t done anything, but I got him a present,” he replies after settling himself down and fiddling with the collar of my t-shirt absent-mindedly before ducking as I lean over to ruffle his hair to annoy him, smirking at the indignant expression he shoots at me. 

“Oh yeah?” I let my voice trail into a question, raising my eyebrows at him and laughing as he sighs, rolling his eyes before sliding a blue case into view, and retrieving a camera from it. 

“He likes polaroid photos, and he said he was into photography,” Brad explains, seeming more defensive than interested in my opinion. 

“Aw, you’re a softie really,” I tease and snigger as he glares at me, crossing his arms and then holding the polaroid camera into the light and frowning. 

“You think he’ll be pleased?”

I cast a look over at the sleeping teenager next to Tristan and smile. “Yeah, I think he will.”

-

Brad’s POV

Overly bright sunlight blinds me when I open my eyes and realise that I’ve fallen asleep in warmth of the Caribbean heat and the reason I’ve woken becomes apparent once my eyesight adjusts and I catch sight of the figure slowly dripping freezing cold water over me. 

“Hey!” I yell in a startled voice, jumping up and feeling my feet plunge through the gaps in the ropes straight into the waters below. Still laughing, Tristan links his arms around mine and helps me back up, leaving Connor to attempt to hide the glass of water, complete with ice. 

James catches my eye and glances over at Connor in a small movement that signals I should probably mention the camera around now. 

“Sorry, but yeah, I’m not sorry.” Tristan sniggers, leaning back and cursing under his breath as he gets the sand from my sandals I wore on the decking earlier all over the drying new ink drawings on his hands. I roll my eyes at him before turning back to Connor who’s busy adjusting the bracelets over his wrists. 

“Hey Con, I got you something.” Connor looks at me before he laughs, assuming I’m joking before I physically force the polaroid camera into his hands. 

“Wait, are you serious?”

“It’s my sister’s old one, and she said I could give it to you. You said you liked photography?” I point out and Connor stares down at the camera in shock, slowly running a finger over the cool metal in his hands, before looking back up at me again and smiling for real this time. 

“Thank you.”

“Aw, how cute. Can we get ice cream now?” Tristan calls out and James jumps down from leaning over the railings to watch the dolphins following the ship, an over excited grin showing his thoughts about the idea. Connor hooks the strap of the camera around his neck before scrambling back up from the rigging and shrugging. 

“Where’s the nearest place?”

“Just down from your cabin,” I tell him, and slide a hand into my pocket to frown. “Uh, guys, we don’t have any money on us?” 

“Its fine, we’ll get some from my cabin,” Connor offers, and a look is exchanged before we all take off running across the wooden deck, earning an annoyed shout from a twenty-something dark haired woman in a red and black bikini attempting to sunbathe. The stairs down to the lower decks as Connor isn’t staying amongst the more expensive cabins like the rest of us are damp, from where it rained in the early hours this morning and I wrap my fingers around the cool railing to my left. Tristan, ever showing off as if he lives off the attention, slides down the railings with an accelerated yell and catching his balance easily at the bottom. 

Connor stops outside a shadow filled door, resting his ear against the metallic surface as though listening for any signs of movement before edging it open with a slight shove. Evidence of another, perhaps younger teenager, is evident in the clothes strewn over a skateboard to the left and then someone steps out of the bathroom, a towel draped over their shoulders as they buckle up their belt. Watchful eyes skim over me and James as Tristan hovers outside somewhat nervously. 

“Connor, who are they?”

“Friends?” Connor’s voice sounds hesitant, and he flits back and forth between the bed and the chest of drawers as though attempting to dodge an attack as he tries to reach the top drawer. 

“Friends. Of course they are. Like the others, huh?” 

Connor glances up to meet the tall man eyes and flinches, letting his hand brush over his bruised ribs before tugging the thick material of his t-shirt further around him and almost tripping over the skateboard before I dart to his side and hold him upright. 

“Can I use some of the holiday money?” Connor questions and stares down at his feet. I pull him closer into my side, shock becoming my immediate reaction as I realise he’s shaking slightly, blue eyes overly bright as though he’s hiding the painful tears. 

“Top drawer. Be back by seven.”

“Hi, I’m Brad by the way.” I chip in, with my trademark grin that usually sends the parents into a more relaxed sort of oh my kid isn’t friends with a psychopath after all frame of mind rather than appearing like an over protective lion of some kind. The tall man lets his gaze travel over me, and I feel Connor’s finger clench around my wrist almost protectively and I feel the grin beginning to fade as the only reply rings cold in the dark room.

“Clearly.” He speaks, the word sharp and crystal clear as he spins around on the spot and slams shut the bathroom door in my face. Connor makes a dash for the money, sliding the thin paper against his wrists, tucking it loosely beneath the bracelets I haven’t seen him take off once, and then ushers me out of the room before tugging the door shut. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was there. I wouldn’t have...I couldn’t…I’m sorry,” he whispers, frantically running a hand through ruffled blond hair before stepping back until his back hits the door. James shoots me a look before stepping forward and Connor flinches. “Sorry.”

“Dude, your family is weird.” Tris mentions casually before an excited gleam lights up his eyes as he attempts to distract Connor in his usual overly cheerful and childlike way. Spinning on the spot, he catches sight of the sunlight filtering into the gloomy corridor from the proper open door and leaps up onto the steps, practically shivering with excitement. “Come on, ice cream’s this way.”

Connor brushes past me without mentioning a word of what’s just happened and follows Tris, plastering a grin on his face as though protecting himself from any awkward questions. James is left beside me in the dim light and stares at me in shock. 

“What the hell just happened?”

“I have got no idea,” I murmur, concern evident in my voice as I glance back at him. “But there’s something going on with Con.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” James shakes himself out of the trance like state he’s drifted into and tilts his head towards the stairs, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, Flash, we’ve got a race to run.”

“Uh huh,” I smirk back at him. “If I win, then I get double ice cream.”

“Likewise if I win. Deal.” James pauses for a second before we both throw ourselves into an almost panicked sprint, scrambling up the stairs and skidding on the damp plastic. 

-

Tristan leans back with a satisfied sigh, licking ice cream from around his mouth and reaching sneakily for the chocolate flake James has left until last as a treat. Connor shoots him an amused look as James notices and spins around on his chair to slam his hand down on the sweet. 

“Bad dog.”

Tristan sulks, burying his head in his arms before brightening as Connor reaches over and lays his own chocolate in front of the taller blond. I eye James in an annoyed glare s he purposely makes a show of eating his second scoop. I am never racing him again – the guy may as well be an Olympic runner for god’s sake. 

No one’s mentioned the scene in Connor’s cabin earlier, and Connor’s finally started to cheer up again, sneakily taking photo of Tristan’s delighted expression as he lifts the chocolate into the air as if checking it’s real, and doesn’t react to the just audible click as the polaroid slides into view, to be carefully laid in the light to develop. James smirks at me, lifting the ice cream cone into the air in a mock salute towards me. 

“Thanks for this, Brad.”

“I hate you so much right now,” I mutter before Connor catches my eye and a strange expression flits across his face before the smile is back again. We have basically spent the entire day sunbathing and eating ice cream, and I haven’t realised quite how much I love the sun until now. 

“Hey! Tris!” James yelps as Tris seizes his arm in a vice like grip, his pen seemingly appearing out of nowhere and feverishly drawing a ginger kitten before James can react. Sitting back, he tucks the pen back behind his ear and grins. 

“Sorry, was there a problem?”

James watches him for a second but doesn’t say a word, instead leaning across to ask the waiter for another coke. Beside me, Connor is staring out at the horizon in a dream like state and I tap him on the shoulder. 

“What are we doing on the island tomorrow?” James asks aloud, popping the tab on his coke can open and closing his eyes as the drink fizzes in his mouth. 

“No idea,” Tristan replies, reaching for the abandoned ice cubes in my glass and crunching one with a lopsided grin. 

“The traditional tourism stuff and then just explore as it’s a free day.” I suggest, leaning forwards to rest my chin on the wooden surface of the table, the corner of my shirt getting tangled in a tall fern growing in a red plant pot. Muffling a laugh behind his hand, Connor reaches behind me to rescue me from the clutches of the evil green foliage. 

“Con, you cool with that?” James asks, twirling a neon orange straw around in the can and stealing an ice cube from my glass as well and I shift it into the middle of the table. 

Connor shrugs, curling a finger around a red bracelet on his wrist. “Yeah, as long as we don’t get kidnapped by rabid locals.”

“That is unbelievably offensive,” Tristan exclaims dramatically, rocking back in his chair and stressing the word unbelievably before breaking into a snigger. James casually reaches over and drops an ice cube down the back of the tall blond’s shirt and letting out an unmanly shriek, Tris leaps into the air, tripping over the chair leg and landing in a heap on the floor, scrambling at the fabric on his back before tossing the frozen water over the balcony away from the warmth of his back and Connor glances over to where it lands with a soft splash in the waters below. 

A couple shoots a disapproving look from the bar, before returning to their conversation, and I aim a kick at Tris, stopping my foot from colliding with his side, but gaining his attention. Climbing back onto his chair, he punches James on his shoulder and shoots Connor a pitiful look. 

“Con, they’re bullying me.”

“What did I do?” I exclaim and he contemplates that for a second before flashing me a wicked grin as he announces his comeback.

“You existed.” 

“Oh thanks for that,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes before stopping as Connor freezes and then clenches his fists, ducking into James’ shadow and letting the older teenager wrap a protective arm around his shoulder. 

“Jeez Con, you’re shaking, what’s wrong?”

Connor blinks before biting his lip. “I thought I saw someone from school.” His gaze travels down slightly to his shirt where I know the bruises are and I cast a dark glare over my shoulder, scanning the room for any possible targets, yet there doesn’t appear to be anyone there other than the couple from earlier. 

“Where?” Tris asks, and frowning before I mime someone hitting another under the table and he lets out a strangled gasp as realisation dawns, his eyes darkening with something akin to hatred. If the guy who beats Con up is on the ship, then he’d better run. 

“I don’t know. I probably imagined it.” Connor closes his eyes, still shaking and not in any hurry to move away from James. “Great, now I’m paranoid.” 

James’ gaze travels down to Connor’s fists and gently uncurls the younger boy’s fingers from where he’s dug his nails into the palms of his hands. Red smears across the table as the bleeding becomes more evident and without saying a word, James dampens one of the tissues in the melting ice and slides it across the wounds. 

“I don’t think you’re paranoid.” James murmurs. “If you’re genuinely scared there’s someone here, then there probably was a good reason. I believe you.” He wraps Connor’s hand in the tissue and then moves his arm to close him in a tight hug before glancing over at me and Tris. 

Tris doesn’t move for a second, staring at the red droplets on the table before speaking. “Hey Con, if there is anyone here, then you can bet we’ll kick their ass.” 

Connor makes a soft sound of laughter, muffled by James’ shirt and I catch sight of a shadow disappearing into the sunlight.

Connor isn’t paranoid, and from the absolute terror he just displayed, I’m going to have a lot of spying to do to find out where this guy’s staying so I can make sure he doesn’t know Connor’s here. Brushing my finger across Tristan’s arm, I widen my eyes at him in a silent signal. 

“C’mon, let’s get some more chocolate.” I mention aloud and Tris reads behind the lines, giving me a nod as he jumps up, satisfied that James is doing a good enough job at relaxing Connor before following me to the opposite side of the room. 

“What’s up?”

“Connor’s right – there is someone here. You up for some spying action?”

“Please,” Tristan smirks at me. “I was born to be James Bond. Of course I am.”  
-


	6. Shadows Will Fade Into Scarlet

Brad’s POV

It takes around twenty minutes before my parents’ breathing evens out, indicating that they’re asleep and Nat’s quiet laughter as she talks to her friends over Skype dies into the darkness of the room as she always succumbs to sleep. The second this happens, I swing my legs round and tug my phone into my back pocket before slipping out of the window and landing lightly on the still warm decking. 

Tristan appears a few second later, his blond hair tinged black and a back hoodie pulled on to shroud his face in shadows. Also clad in jet black skinny jeans, he spots me and comes bounding over like an energetic puppy. 

I stare at him in disbelief. “What are you wearing?”

Tris runs a hand through the strands of hair under his hoodie that he must be boiling in and frowns at me. “What? I thought we were going for the entire spy thing?”

“I didn’t mean that you had to act like an axe murderer. And please tell me you didn’t actually dye your hair that colour?”

Tris sniggers, pulling the hoodie off his skinny form and tossing it under a bench before grinning. “No, I just chalked the ends to try and blend in more.”

“You are insane,” I tell him and set my sights on the long corridor stretching out in front of us from the door we’ve been walking towards. According to earlier when I saw the mysterious figure Connor freaked out over, this is where we should be headed. 

“Team Tradley is going undercover,” Tristan reports excitedly and meets my confused expression with a look of glee. “What? Tris and Bradley equals Tradley. It’s our spy name.”

“You are really into this aren’t you?” 

He shrugs, opening his mouth to reply before a door creaks open and a burly figure steps out, the glow of a mobile phone illuminating his features. Tris tangles an arm round my waist and drags me into the shadows by the glowing green fire escape sign and I watch the teenager stroll past, instantly recognisable as the guy who tried to beat me up the other day had James not stepped in. 

Sliding my fingers under Tristan’s wrist, I give him a gentle shove to signal he can let go of me and step out into the dimly lit passageway. The half open door echoes the sounds of distant laughter and my gaze travels upwards to an air vent in the ceiling. Following my eyes, Tristan smirks, before twirling one of his pens like a drum stick, indicating it’s about to come in very useful. 

“Give me a lift up?”

“Why me?” Tristan whines petulantly and I roll my eyes at him as though it’s obvious.

“You’re taller.”

“Fine,” He sighs dramatically, crouching down to let me clamber up into the air vent from where the grate swings open after the pen acts as a screwdriver. “Midget.”

I pause, taking in a deep breath before glancing back down to where his face is illuminated by the green glow of the light. “If it wouldn’t create so much noise, I would kill you right now. Besides, Connor’s shorter.”

“Con’s younger than you,” Tris sniggers, and ducks as I swing my left foot in his basic direction before crouching low in the enclosed metal space. Tristan doesn’t have to jump, instead easily pulling himself up into the vent and tugging the grate shut behind him. 

“Where now?” I wonder. Finding this guy’s room is going to be harder than I thought and the darkness of the vents is confusing. Tristan slinks closer, drifting his fingers over my forearm as though confirming I’m still there before angling his head forwards. 

“I can hear them. Listen.” 

I shrug. “I’ll take your word for it. Come on then, Team Tradley is go.”

Tristan lets out a delighted laugh, the sound echoing around us in the darkness. “I knew you’d like it in the end.”

“Oh shut up,” I mutter, hiding my grin as I turn away and started shuffling forwards. The metal is cold against the palms of my hands and light drifts up from the room up ahead where loud music is now audible. Tristan crashes into my back and muffles a cough as a cloud of dust settles onto his hair, before he slithers down next to me on his stomach, flashing a grin as I give him an unimpressed look.

“Down there.” He points through the grate below us, his voice a low whisper as he tugs his long sleeved top around the pair of us as he notices the goose bumps rising along my skin. Whether or not it’s because I’m staring at a sight I really don’t want to ever see again in my life, or because the air conditioning units filter through to the rest of the ship through these air vents I’m not sure, but I’m grateful all the same. 

“Jeez,” I mutter, staring at the array of tattooed teenagers beneath me laughing at the social media page lit up on the computer screen in front of them as they re-blog videos of a blondish brunette around fifteen-year-old kid being beaten up, before a low snigger is exchanged. 

“Comment it, I dare you.” A low voice murmurs, and then the click sounds as the message is sent to the profile of a very familiar teenager from the video. 

“Oh God. Con was right.” Tris mutters, his fists clenching around the pencil lying across my arm from where he’s balanced it. The teenager on the computer screen is Connor, but what’s worse is when I not only realise the amount of hate messages sent to my friend, but who the person sending them supposedly is. 

The guys beneath me are logged in as a James McVey. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath beside me as Tristan notices as well, before two things happen at once.

One – the pencil in his hands snaps and one half falls onto the computer below.

And Two – the grate gives away, sending us both tumbling to the floor in front of the intimidating youths in front of us. 

“Hey there,” I wave cheerfully. “Just thought we’d drop by and say hello.”

Tris seizes back his top from me, and pulls the dark fabric around him before grabbing my wrist and throwing us both out into the corridor. Footsteps and shouts start up, and scrambling at the plastic surface beneath me, I finally fling myself onto my feet and break into a frantic sprint, Tristan at my heels before I crash straight into the punk guy from before. 

“Oh f-” Tristan starts, skidding to a halt, the sole of his trainers squeaking against the flooring before he loses his balance and collapses on top of the dark haired youth’s ankles, sending them both crashing to the ground. Leaping over the pair, and wrapping a hand around Tristan’s wrist, I tug him to his feet and we both sprint in a mad dash across the ducking before throwing ourselves over the railings and dropping softly into the shadows of the lower deck. 

I wait for a few seconds before speaking as the pounding footsteps fade into the night, coughing and taking several deep gulps of the warm air surrounding me as I attempt to catch my breath. Beside me, Tristan sinks to the floor and rubs at an already forming bruise on his wrist from where I yanked him upright so quickly. 

“Sorry,” I mutter breathlessly and he tosses his head back, laughing somewhat hysterically as he stops and stares at me in disbelief, blue eyes shining in the moonlight with adrenaline. 

“And Tradley escapes from the evil clutches of the creepy guys with another daring scheme,” He announces in a droning voice before sniggering as I reach over and dig a finger between his ribs, earning myself a strangled yelp at the tickling sensation. 

“How do they know James?” I whisper aloud, listening to the quiet splashing of the dark waters surrounding us and Tristan shakes his head, turning to look at me. 

“I don’t know. He mentioned before that he’s not real friends with all the cool kids, but they are who he hangs around with at school.” He murmurs, his voice unnaturally serious before reaching across to brush a cobweb out of my tangled hair. 

“We need to stop Connor from seeing that web page.”

“Oh yeah, hey Con, don’t check Twitter and don’t ask us how we know that.” 

I glare back at him frustration. “Alright then, what’s your plan, Einstein?” 

He holds a finger up in the air, motioning for a second before speaking. “We talk to James.”  
I lean back against the wall and run a hand over my face, hiding a yawn. “When?”

“Now?” He asks, a mischievous grin crossing his features as he leaps to his feet and claps his hands together.

“How?”

“Break in,” He replies as if it’s the most natural and obvious thing in the world. I stare at him in disbelief for several seconds, trying to figure out if he’s for real or not.

“Tris, we can’t just break into our best friend’s cabin.”

“No, we can’t. But you can.”

I close my eyes and groan dramatically. “I hate you so much Tristan Evans.”

-

James’ POV

The figure that lands on top of me suddenly, clasps a hand across my mouth, wide brown eyes narrowing as if daring me to scream. Shifting back until my back hits the wall, I finally blink the blurriness out of my vision and have to choke back a gasp before dragging Brad’s fingers away from my mouth and following him out onto the balcony where Tristan is perched on the balcony like a bird. 

“Hey,” The blond greets me, raising a hand in a wave, before returning to scratching the pen along his finger-tips in the images of an eagle’s wing. 

I rub a hand through my sleep bedraggled hair and glare at them both. “Guys, it’s like two in the morning. What are you doing here?” 

Brad lowers his voice, conscious of my sleeping family as he drags me further into the bright starlight. “We found the guy Connor freaked out over.” He explains, with a knowing glance at Tristan who smirks, mouthing something back at him. “And we want to know why you’re posting hate on his twitter.”

“Wait, slow down, what the hell?”

“They were logged in as you.” Tristan points out, his voice almost sinister as he gives me a fake smile, drifting along behind my back and running a finger along my shoulder. “So talk.”

Brad frowns. “Tris, stop being creepy.” 

“Aw, but it’s fun,” He whines, dropping his hand and returning to the balcony, before watching me intently. 

“I haven’t used Twitter in about a month, but these guys at school know my password,” I begin before trailing off as everything slides into place like a puzzle. My supposed friends at school, claiming they were teaching some weirdo a lesson. I never checked up on it because I thought they were messing around, as they know I hate bullying. “Son of a…”

A cough comes from behind us and I spin round instantly to be greeted with Sophie, a curious expression written across her face as she slides the doors shut behind us. 

“We should go. The island’s tomorrow.” Brad murmurs after an awkward silence, getting up from slouching against the railings of the balcony. 

“I won’t let anything happen to Connor, I promise.”

“Good, because don’t think for one minutes I won’t kick your friends’ asses,” Tris tells me in a low voice, a threatening tone evident and I feel a shiver run down my spine. All I really want to do is to go back to earlier today when we were happy and live in that moment forever, but as usual, my life can’t be that easy. Instead I just watch as they both disappear into the darkness before Sophie catches my arm, frowning. 

“What was that all about?”

“Connor’s being bullied by my friends.” I mutter, sarcastically pronouncing the final word as I turn away from her. “I hate my life sometimes.” 

“What?” Her shell shocked tones bring me back to reality and I give her a small smile, wrapping her up in a hug before depositing her back in her bed. 

“Sleep,” I tell her with an amused look, sitting beside her and letting her curl up against me like when we were little before she drifts off into a peaceful sleep. Staring into the darkness, I close my eyes, frantically fighting back the tears burning at the corners of my vision like traitors. “You’re right, I don’t hate my life.” I murmur, glancing down at my sister. “I hate myself.”

-

Brad’s POV

Nat grabs my arm as I reach for my sunglasses from the desk, staring at me with narrowed eyes, suspicion written across her face. 

“You’re not as quiet as you think,” She murmurs. “Where did you go last night?”

“None of your business.”

“I worry, okay? I don’t want you ending up like last time, and I hate still lying to Mum and Dad about that.” 

I bite my lip hard, anything to take my mind of the painful memories of fists connecting with my face, and blood dripping down my t-shirt, before shaking my head, bringing myself back to the present. “Thanks, but really, I’m fine.”

Nat doesn’t say another word, instead turning back to where she’s sorting lenses for her camera today. According to the tourism packs we were sent through at the beginning of the voyage, she’ll get some good pictures today, and after checking Tumblr late last night, it’s evident that her fans are eager for the images. 

The heat hits me the second I step out of the cabin door, a wave of humid air sending the fabric of my loose shirt clinging to my skin. Shouts echo up from the lower decks and I frown as a second later Tris stumbles into view, tilting his head up to look at me and waving. 

“Hey!” He calls over, before easily climbing the rigging and swinging himself over the railings in front of me. I don’t speak for a second, memories entering my mind unbidden of last night and Tristan’s excited expression fades for a moment as he catches my eye. 

“Do you think we did the right thing, talking to James?” I ask him, rubbing the itching mosquito bite on my left wrist. Tristan frowns, glancing at me for a second. 

“Yes.” A grin appears on his face as Connor comes barrelling along the decking towards us, crashing into Tris with a startled gasp as he attempts to slow down with no luck. Taking a step back, and tousling his hair back into shape, he slings an arm around my shoulders, much more relaxed than yesterday. 

“Hi Brad,” He greets me with a cheerful smile and I instantly laugh as Tristan pouts at the apparent ignorance of his being there. Connor aims a high five in our friend’s basic direction, instead accidentally hitting him in the shoulder but not noticing as he leafs through a map clutched in his hands tightly. 

“Wow, come prepared or what?” I comment, watching Connor trace the route across the streets etched onto the paper before glancing up at the approaching land. 

He rolls his eyes before frowning. “Where’s James?”

I exchange a look with Tris and Connor narrows his eyes, opening his mouth to speak before the blond appears behind me, looking shaken. “Hey,” He mumbles and flinches as I turn and grin at him. 

We should not have spoken to him last night. 

Connor deserts me, to lean against James in a comforting gesture. “What’s wrong?” He asks before his gaze travels down slightly and he freezes. “What did you do?” 

Tristan leans over, attempting to see. “What did he do to what?” He enquires before jumping back at the long scratches stretching from James’ hands to his forearms, an angry red in the sunlight and still slightly bleeding. 

“Just had to speak to someone and they got annoyed.” He explains, and Connor stares at him for a few seconds, before accepting it as James smiles at him, seemingly happy again and letting Connor jog on ahead, ready for the ship’s docking before turning back to us both. 

“That’s complete bullshit,” Tristan starts before I run my hand over the scratches and wince as my fingers come away a scarlet red. James doesn’t wince, instead going tense as he spots one of the guys from last night, and pulling me close towards his side in a protective grip. 

“Half of it is,” He admits, tugging Tristan into the shadows so that we aren’t seen. “But the rest of it isn’t. It wasn’t them, but it turns out punching someone in the face annoys them.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper aloud, before James shakes his head at me, wrapping a plaster over the cuts and staring straight ahead as though hiding something. 

“Leave it, Bradley. I can deal with it. In the meantime, you should both also know that I changed my password, deleted the tweets.” He mentions casually as Connor glances back to us from where he’s waiting for us to catch up. “I’m not completely like them.”

“I never said you were,” Tristan begins to protest. 

“No, but you thought it. Which is fine, because you’re entitled to your opinion and I respect that. And anyway, this summer isn’t going to last forever, and I’m used to people…” He trails off and then takes on his fake happiness again as he breaks into a run after Con, pulling the younger teenager into a hug and shrieks of laughter can be heard as it turns into a tickle fight. 

“He doesn’t trust us,” Tristan speaks softly, looking somewhat devastated. 

“Can you really blame him? We did accuse him of beating up our best friend,” I point out, but that’s not what’s worrying me and Tris can tell.

“How exactly did he run into the guy from before?” Tris asks aloud with a frown before I bite back a curse as realisation dawns. 

“Well we just messed up, big time.” 

“Um, so, we forget this all happened, and move on like nothing ever went wrong until James trusts us again?”

“That is an awful plan.” I comment aloud. 

“Have you got a better idea?” 

“No.”

I glance across at Tristan’s hand. The drying ink makes up the image of cat, trapped in a cage unlike before and I frown. Ever since I’ve met them, Tris has only ever drawn variations of cats on James. 

For some reason, I can hear Nat’s voice in my head, as the memory of when she’d explained something to me a couple of years ago. 

‘It’s a metaphor Brad. Showing what he thinks is going on without actually saying it because he’s scared of someone else hearing.’

I run my hand over the ink and Tristan grins at me. “I had to draw it somewhere, because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone.”

I cast a worried glance after James and Connor. “Sure.”


	7. Smile For Me, And I'll Take Your Picture

It takes several minutes before the gates are opened, and we are allowed onto the paved harbour ground of the island, a welcome escape from being cooped up on the ship all the time. Letting out a loud high-pitched shriek, Tristan flings himself forwards and prances around, waving his arms in the air as though marching in a protest. 

“Dry land!” He yells back to us, his wide blue eyes shining with excitement and laughter as he spins around dramatically, narrowly avoiding being trodden underfoot in the crowd of people swarming off the ship. “I have conquered it.”

“Weirdo,” Brad teases him with a light punch to the shoulder and instantly sways on the spot, James grabbing his arm to steady him. “Wow, it feels weird after being on the sea for so long.”

I can’t help but agree with him there, but I also can’t help but feel my eyes drawn back to the scratches on James’ arms, self-consciously rubbing the bracelets lining my own. Whether or not he’s lying I’m not sure, but there was definitely some sort of mood going on between him the others earlier. 

“Okay, first off I am starving,” Brad announces, drawing out the last word with a pointed look at James who’s taken control of my maps. “So, food?”

I sneakily take a picture of him on the polaroid from where the sunlight is silhouetting him against the backdrop of the hills, and tuck the image into my back pocket. The sun warms my back and the cool breeze from yesterday would be a welcome relief from the intense heat washing over the island. 

James leads the way up the streets towards the bustling market to our left, and I keep close to his side. Seeing one of usual tormenters on the ship yesterday unnerved me, and attempting to hide the shivers that shake me every now and then as the memories come back to haunt me is going to be hard. Curling my hands into fists, I try to hide the way I keep shooting uneasy glances over my shoulders as though they were going to jump out of the shadowed back streets. 

“Jems?” Tris begins, a soft whine to his voice as he casts a longing look at the ice cream parlour. 

“You want anything?” James asks as way of a reply, directing the question at me. I give him a shrug as a response, instead focussing on the crowds of people muddling their way along the choked streets, colourful colours leaking with the cool blue of the ocean in the background. There are too many people for my liking and the distinct feeling of being trapped comes back to haunt me as the voices become too loud, like thunder in my ears. 

Something cold suddenly drips onto my hands and I glance up to see Brad holding out a strawberry ice cream as way of a greeting. “I bring gifts?” He offers with a welcoming grin before sinking down to sit on the steps next to me, his fingers drifting over the camera in my lap for a moment and smiling before handing me the treat. 

“Thanks.” I murmur, attempting to listen just to his voice as he starts talking about nothing in particular. He’s wearing a red t-shirt and frayed shorts and I focus on the colours which blur in front of me as someone knocks my knee walking past, and suddenly I can’t breathe properly as the crowds of people appear to grow larger, closing in. Too many voices and too many eyes, and I break into a sprint, leaving a shocked Brad behind me to head up the nearest quieter street. 

The alleyway is cooler, shrouded in shadows from the buildings on either side blocking out the harsh sun rays. I’m not sure where I am as I double over for a second to catch my breath, leaning against a pastel streaked wall for support. Laughter echoes back from behind me and the shaking of my hands in front of me makes me close my eyes. Block out the world, as usual. 

The cobblestones lining the street are worn with age and slope upwards towards the hills I saw earlier. The others can go off and have fun with their traditional tourism sites and things, Tris will definitely enjoy it, and why would they want me hanging around them anyway? All I ever do is annoy people, although I have to admit that they’re very good at pretending to like me. 

Shifting my fingers through the worn fabric that makes up the bracelets on my wrists, I silently long for my earphones and music so that I can go and curl up in the shadows somewhere and read, without anyone staring at me like the freak I am. 

That’s when I crash straight into person in front of me, and jerk my heard up to meet the concerned gaze of an elderly woman, who speaks with a thick accent which I can’t fully comprehend, although I catch the gist of it – are you alright?

Um – no. I’m never alright. But no one needs to know that because that would inconvenience them. The past few days have taken a lot of my confidence to pull off – pretending to be happy is surprisingly hard to fake. Waving briefly at her, I scramble up a steep dust soaked slope and then re-join the path, the steps cut into the hill side an effort to climb. With my shirt clinging to my back, I spin round as I reach the top and grin as I take in the sights surrounding me. The ocean is a clear aqua, shimmering in golden sunlight which highlights the vibrant colours of the market and shops where kids are playing. To my left palm trees slowly sway their fronds at me as though greeting me. 

The polaroid camera clicks softly and I lower it, rubbing the slightly smudged ink as the photograph begins to develop. Stretching slightly, I lie back and let the sun envelop me in a warm blanket as I forget how I always run away from things, even the people who apparently do care about me. For now, I’m invisible to the world, and the only sounds up here are the quiet bird songs whistling through the breeze. 

“There you are!” Brad’s voice breaks the calm silence and I open one eye to see him flop down beside me, tugging his t-shirt over my head as he moans about the hot weather, trailing off as I don’t reply. “Did you know,” He begins, shifting closer and staring at me with wide eyes. “That rats can laugh? And sea horses join tails so they don’t lose each other and stay with each other for life? Also, sea-otters hold paws while sleeping so they don’t drift apart.”

“Are you guilt tripping me for running off with cute animal facts?” I ask him with an amused smile, as Brad shrugs slightly, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he glances away self-consciously.

“Maybe.” He yawns, stretching like a cat in the sunlight before tracing his fingers over the bracelets circling my wrists, the fabric catching slightly on his watch strap. “But I was more going for the trying to cheer you up route.” There’s a slight pause, in which the little tropical bird with the ruffled blue and red feathers sings cheerfully again, the song carried on the wind that sprinkles dust over my shirt. 

“Where are the others?” I ask him after a moment after my sight catches on the yellow banana boat in the distance of the harbour which I know Tris would be longing to have a ride on. A few years ago I’d have probably felt the same way. 

Brad doesn’t reply for second, watching the red roofed houses with a strangely fond look before answering me. “Doesn’t matter.” He brushes the dust off his t-shirt and then grins at me in his usual way. “If you want to tell me about what happened down there, then I’m a good listener.” The offer remains untaken for a moment, as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and inwardly groan. If Brad wasn’t so goddamn cheerful and seemingly trustworthy all the time then I wouldn’t feel so relaxed around him, which makes it hard to make sure I don’t accidentally let one of my secrets slip into the conversation quite by chance.

“They used to gang up on me in big groups,” I admit finally, rolling over and half jumping as I realise we’re practically touching noses as Brad is so close to me. If I squint, I think I can make out faded freckles, his tan from the Caribbean sun turning them invisible. “All of them, just surrounding me, and they used to laugh and cheer each other on. The rest of the time I could hear them muttering insults about me as I walked down the corridors. So I can’t deal with busy public spaces. It feels too much like they’re there, about to turn me into the human version of a bloody blob-fish.” 

Brad sniggers at the metaphor. “Nice mental image there, Con. Can I photo-shop that later, or get Nat to?”

“Knock yourself out,” I reply without hesitation, before nervously returning the smile. It’s nowhere near as cheerful as Brad’s but for the first time it’s genuine and Brad rolls onto his back, letting out a mini cheer. 

“Yes! Success! I made you smile.” He turns back to face me, before scrambling to his feet and coughing at the cloud of dust that forms around him as he accidentally takes in a deep breath. “Now I have a list of things to do today. A bit like a mini summer bucket list.”

I stare at him in confusion. “What?”

He gestures to the town below the hillside. “Never mind that. But I want you to come with me into the town and we’re going to buy some of these awesome shakes the locals rave about and then sit on the beach with them, and chat or something.”

I bite my lip, curling my fingers as I try to block out the memories that come flooding unbidden into my mind at the thought of the bustling crowds. Brad wraps an arm around my shoulders, more or less forcing me to my feet as he rests his head against my shoulder. 

“It’ll be fine Con.” He stops before staring at me intently. “I promise.” He slides his hand into mine, entwining our fingers tightly and smiling comfortingly at me. “See? Like sea otters. Not leaving you.”

“Thanks.” I murmur before following him down the path, narrowly avoiding skidding several times. A startled bright green lizard scurries out of the way into the safe haven that is the shade of several large boulders and I’m reminded of Rex. Already I can hear the voices like a distant rumble of thunder, or maybe a train, getting closer with every step, and my heartbeat quickens, as I close my eyes for a second, trying to filter everything out and just focus on the curly haired boy next to me. 

Brad squeezes my hand, leaning in close to my ear as he whispers. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

I open my eyes and then blink. The people surrounding us like bees swarming a hive couldn’t care less, scurrying about their everyday lives, laughing, talking, texting on phones, skidding on bikes, trading with the market stalls or heading down onto the harbour viewing point. Instead of the voices that seemed to taunt me before, the only person I can hear is Brad, still confirming that he’s not leaving and that there’s nothing to be afraid of. This time, it’s not the voices I’m paying attention to, but the fact the world is in colour. 

The entire place is soaking in multi coloured patterns, dip-dyed reds and blues with splashes of green and orange, with purple and turquoise scattered over to my left. Brad spins me around slightly and laughs, one of his curls coming untucked from behind his ear and he pulls me in closer to him, closing his arms around my back and I lean against his chest, resting my head on his shoulder. 

“I promised didn’t I?” He murmurs, running a hand through my dust covered hair as I stare at my surroundings with wide eyes. Colour seems to dripping life from everything, and the yellow and blues contrast with reds and greens, wrapping around me in a blanket of warmth and happiness, that is helped by the smile I can hear in Brad’s voice. 

“Oh my god.” I whisper and he laughs slightly. 

“Want to hear another fact?” 

I nod against his shoulder, watching the brightly coloured woven blankets spinning slowly in the wind as a woman attempts to slide five silver coins gleaming in the golden sunlight over an orange tinged counter.

“Colours make people happy. When people are happy they tend to see things as brighter more amazing colours. Colours don’t actually exist, but our minds see them that way because they are trying to make sense of the signals sent to our brains, so when you’re sad you aren’t focussing as much on your surroundings so you don’t actually see the colours as bright as they really are. You see the world darker, in black and white more than red and blue or yellow and green. So for you to be seeing the world like you are now, it means you’re getting better, and you’re learning it doesn’t hurt to be happy.”

“Is that a fact?” 

“Yes.” Brad lets me stand up straight, leaning up and letting my hands filter through the frayed carpets lining the ceilings of the market stalls and laughing as Brad runs on ahead, almost crashing into a group of school children and a couple taking photos of each other before skidding to a stop outside a small shop, barely noticeable, but painted a cheerful pink and blue colour, like the beach huts in Brighton in the UK. A small sign announces it as the shake shop, and I follow Brad inside, twirling an iridescent windmill stuck into a flower pot on my way in. 

“What’s tropical like?” Brad wonders aloud, tracing his finger down the menu with wonder and I lean over his shoulder to take a closer look before tapping on the tropical one as well. 

“Guess we’ll find out,” I tell him with a relaxed grin, before swinging myself onto a tall chair in the corner to wait while Brad orders and collects the drinks. Taking a quick picture of market and colour filled town, I turn back to see Brad heading towards me with the shakes in either hand and a wide grin, and unable to help myself, I lift the camera up and take another photo of him. 

“I’m outraged,” he replies as way of a protest, leaning over and tapping the image as I slide it into my pocket alongside the others, before poking the neon orange straw he offers me into the drink and taking a sip, ignoring his joking moment of truth statement. 

“Oh wow. Where has this been my whole life?” I gasp, and Brad gives into the temptation and tries his as well, licking his lips and going cross eyed as he realises he has ice cream topping on his nose. 

“Right here, in this shop,” Brad answers me as way of a smartass comment and literally giggles as I go to swipe him with a frozen chunk of pineapple I find attached to the side of my cup with the help of a red and blue umbrella normally found in cocktail drinks at bars or restaurants. 

“Where’s the beach then?” I ask him, nudging open the door of the shop with my foot and Brad sucks a large piece of ice cream up his straw, wincing at the sudden cold and letting out a loud gasp, whining as he taps his head. 

“Brain freeze,” he explains, hopping from one foot to the other as the feeling begins to die away whilst I watch on, attempting to hide my laughter. “Down there,” he adds finally, pointing down a narrow pathway half hidden by a small copse of palm trees and tropical bushes. Sliding my shoes off to carry them in one hand, the other wrapped around the cold drink, I emerge out of the shadows onto the almost deserted beach and smile at the traditional Caribbean sight. 

Brad lets out a loud whoop, breaking into a sprint across the golden beach and I ditch my shoes making a mental note to come back for them later or else there’ll be hell to pay, sinking my toes into the warm sand. Taking off into a run after him, I splash him with the cool water and laugh loudly as he lets out an outraged cry, leaving his drink on the beach to come back for it, alongside his shirt, plunging into the warm waters of the ocean and preparing to dunk me underneath. Luckily water is one thing I am not afraid of, and I launch myself at Brad after leaving my drink beside his, attempting to barrel him over. 

Jumping lightly out of the way, he spins me around before sending a wave of water at me, and I lose my balance on the shifting sands beneath my feet, crashing down into the sea and Brad shoots me an evil grin, before a familiar tanned blond bowls him over. 

“Tris is on your team, I’m on Con’s.” James explains as if it were obvious and I take to sending the water flying towards a now trapped and struggling Brad before Tris appears from seemingly nowhere apart from maybe the ocean itself and drags me backwards, surprisingly strong, latching his arms around my waist and sending his fingers like butterflies over my ribs. Instantly breaking out in laughter, I attempt to scramble away from the tickling motion and lock eyes with James. In a silent countdown, we both act, me slipping down beneath the water and knocking Brad’s feet out from under him whilst James lands onto of Tris and traps him in a hug. 

Brad climbs back to his feet with a hand from me and shakes his wet hair, sending water droplets scattering over my shoulders, the water glinting with rainbows in the sunlight. He was right though – before I was seeing the world more in black and white whereas now I’m seeing it in its full colour.

“Are we okay?” James asks, with a knowing look at me and I tilt my head back to catch the sun rays warming my skin, letting myself grin. 

“Yes.” I reply, without having to lie or think about the answer, Brad’s arm finding its way around my shoulders again and tugging me closer into his side in a hug as the water splashes me with various shades of blue – aqua, turquoise, pale blue, navy, contrasting with the clear pale blue of the sky above us. 

“Jems, let me go!” Tristan yells in a frustrated cry that would seem genuine if he wasn’t laughing so much as James carries him bridal style onto the sand, ignoring the wriggling pleas for mercy as he sends sand scattering over our friend. Tristan gives him an unimpressed look before brushing the tiny shells and sand off his legs and shoulders. 

Lying back on the sand next to him, along with Brad and James, I lift the camera into the air and smile up at the lens. 

“Smile for me and I’ll take your picture,” I laugh, and James shifts closer, his sun dusted hair tickling my shoulder as Tristan creeps in closer and Brad grins up at the camera as well before I click the familiar button and the image begins to form. 

This summer may end, but the memories never will. I guess Brad is teaching me a lot of things like that.


End file.
